


Dream Come True *Rewrite*

by SunFloweryDeath



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, M/M, Multi, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:02:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24510505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunFloweryDeath/pseuds/SunFloweryDeath
Summary: As of 1/5/21, updates will happen weekly. Expect a post every Tuesday around 7pm PST.What would you do if you got to enter your favorite game? Well, what if you were taken against your will? In this fic, you've been kidnapped and trapped in the world of Detroit.Find out who took you and why they did it.
Relationships: Chloe & Reader, Chloe (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Chloe (Detroit: Become Human)/ Reader, Chloe/Reader, Connor & Reader, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) & You, Connor (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Connor/Reader, Elijah Kamski & Reader, Elijah Kamski (Detroit: Become Human & Reader, Elijah Kamski (Detroit: Become Human)/ Reader, Elijah Kamski/Reader, Gavin Reed & RK900, Gavin Reed (Detroit: Become Human) & RK900, Gavin Reed (Detroit: Become Human)/ RK900, Gavin Reed/RK900, Kara & Reader, Kara (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Kara (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Kara/reader, Markus & Reader, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Markus (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Markus/Reader, North & Reader, North (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, North (Detroit: Become Human)/ Reader, North/Reader, Ralph & Reader, Ralph (Detroit: Become Human) & Reader, Ralph (Detroit: Become Human)/Reader, Ralph/Reader
Comments: 3
Kudos: 80





	Dream Come True *Rewrite*

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Ilene Woods (Cinderella)  
> Let me know what you think so far! If the formatting is weird please let me know.

You did it. You finished your first playthrough of Detroit. It wasn’t easy and it didn’t go as planned. Let’s run through the outcomes you received. Connor is a deviant now. The sweet baby boy that you so often refer to hugs Hank. Then, the game ends. Somewhere off in the distance, Markus and North are together leading the deviants towards a better future. All seems better in Detroit. But not everyone got to see the emancipation that you had a hand in bringing. Simon died on the roof because you choose to shoot him. Luther wasn't well off either. He died because of you. You were the one who sacrificed him while helping Kara and Alice. If I were to give you a second chance, would you make the same choices? Do you think you could save everyone? Or would you lose all those you care about? 

Are you ready to try? Maybe you can do better than I ever could.

…

You sit in your room staring at the screen euphorically. The game was over.

“Hell yeah!” The credits roll, and you're giddy after getting a decent outcome in your first playthrough. You check the time to find that it's only 20:26 and debate whether to play again. The screen changes again. Chloe appears before you.

“Chloe! What do you think I should do?” She fidgets on the screen before locking her eyes on yours. She then asks you to set her free. You're shocked. It had never occurred to you that Chloe could deviate. The options linger on the screen, and she looks to get increasingly worried. 

“If…” She perks at your voice, almost as if she is listening, “If I let you go, will I ever see you again?” 

She smiles softly, then she noticeably nods. You take this as a sign and decide to release her. You look down at the remote and hesitate. 

How could you say no? Especially after the “friendship” you built. The fact is that Chloe always made your day. After a long day of university classes and work, you usually come home to study. But then one day, a friend had given you the game. Suddenly, you had an outlet to destress with. 

Chloe was the face that you saw after all your hard work. She was there to greet you without fault, and she didn’t hold your choices against you. She knew you were only trying your best. You were saddened by the idea of her leaving, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of you to keep her. She may not be real, but you love her all the same. 

_If you love somebody, let them go, for if they return, they were always yours. And if they don’t, they never were._

You press the button and glance at the screen. Chloe smiles brightly. 

“Goodbye Y/-” you flinch in surprise at the loud chime of your phone. You were upset that your phone had pulled you away from your last moment with Chloe. By the time you look back at the screen, she is gone. 

“See you later Chloe.” The menu loads up and there is no one on the screen. You stare at the empty spot where your friend once stood. “What do I do now? New story? Nah, maybe I should visit the chapter where I lost Luther and try to save him.” You sit there debating but get frustrated.

“It’s not the same without you, Chloe!” Your eyes wander to extras. “That’s it, character art! I can see all my waifus and husbandos!”

Connor is the first character you see, and you buy all of his character art. “Aw, you look so good! My baby boy looks nice in everything. Even in the rain and in the dark. He’s so perfect!” Connor stands there motionless and lifeless. You can’t help but compare him to Chloe. 

She was so lifelike, especially in your last moments with her. The character art is not cutting it. You leave the screen on but focus your attention on your phone. You grab it to look for Detroit x Reader fics. On the screen, you see the notification from before. It was a text from a number you didn’t recognize. 

**123-456-7890:** See you soon

“See you soon?” You type up a quick response, “Sorry, wrong number my dude.”

After hitting send, you see their typing bubble pop-up. You wait only for it to disappear with no response. You shrug it off before closing the app and looking for some juicy fics. 21:01. 

“I can read a few fics before bed. Or just stay up all night. Not like I have plans. Hmm, let’s start with some headcanons!” Your eyes scan the titles listed on the screen.

_How they ask you out…_

You squeal, “Perfect!” Then you fall into the endless abyss of one-shots and headcanons.

_~ A Few Hours Later ~_

“NO!” Your poor phone finally died after your four-binge. “It was at 65% like two minutes ago.”

You groan and begrudgingly move to plug your phone in. As you were about to plug it in, you noticed something in your reflection on the screen. Right on your temple rested a yellow LED. Your free hand moves toward your own temple. Before you can lay a finger on it, the color turned bright red. You start to mildly panic and close your eyes.

After taking a couple of deep breaths, you open your eyes and find that the LED was gone. This didn’t make any sense. You decide to blame the lights in your room for the illusion. 

You sigh, “This game is driving me crazy. I can’t believe I seriously imagined that.” With your phone plugged in, you did your nightly routine and get comfy. You guess it is around 1:30ish at this point and you try to get some sleep. As you lay there, you start to come up with your own fic. You imagine yourself befriending the androids and slowly falling in love with Connor. Just as you were slipping away into unconsciousness, your phone turns on. You glance towards your screen and see the logo pop-up. Knowing it’ll be over in a few seconds, you close your eyes and try to continue your little daydream.

The strain on your eyes only gets worse. The light is blinding even with your eyes closed, “Damn technology, you're a cruel mistress.” You feel around for your phone, intending to turn it over. But you pull your hand away when you touch it.

“Fuck!” Your phone had burned your hand. You were wide awake now and worried your phone was going to explode or start a fire. You try to squint and look towards your phone, but the light dazes you. You try again, but the light consumes every corner of your vision. Then, you notice that it’s also coming from your tv screen. There’s a faint buzzing happening too. It gets louder and stronger. Then your bed starts to shake violently. You start to feel really dizzy. The feeling gets worse, and you feel a sharp pain in your right temple. You pass out after a few more seconds of the tremors.

…

You wake up with the light from your window shining in your eyes. You have vague memories of the night before, yet you convince yourself it was nothing but a dream. You check the time on your phone to see that it’s only 7:15. You intend to stay in bed and scroll through your feed, but your bladder has other plans. You groan and decide to make your way towards your attached bathroom. When you stand, you're hit with deja vu. There was a strong feeling that you were in the wrong place. You stay in place and look around you're room. It was the same, but you had some doubts. 

"When was the last time I cleaned? I don't think my room has ever been this clean." Upon closer inspection, you notice that your stuff looks strange, almost unnatural. It's almost as if your room is a sitcom set. It doesn't look as if a person lived in this room. 

You do another scan of your environment. You catalog your stuff and stop at the door. The more you stared at it, the odder it became. 

"That's my..." You stepped closer to it. You move carefully as if you were approaching a wild animal. You notice the pain in your temple increase. It's a hot searing pain. The pain does nothing to stop you. When you're hand touches the doorknob, the pain disappears. There was no trace of the heat you once felt. 

' _It's just a closet._ ' You think, 'But why didn't I know that. Why did I forget about it.' You open the door to find a giant walk-in closet, stocked with your clothes and new items you hadn't seen before. You wander in and your jaw drops. Any article of clothing that you had admired, before was here. Whether you had previously owned it or not, it was now in your closet. You grab a new jacket and admire it. None of this seemed real to you. 

The jacket in your hand seemed unworn. It looked brand new. 'Well of course it is. This isn't mine... _Yes, it is_.' You feel the thought echo in your head. You shake your head and drop the jacket. You move away from it and instead grab something you recognize, your favorite shirt. 

It didn't feel right. You had worn this shirt hundreds of times, but this couldn't be right. Like the discarded jacket, your shirt felt brand new. You push the discomfort into the back of your head and leave your closet. 

The feeling doesn't leave when you enter your room. You don't feel at home here. You once again scan your room and stop at another door. The second door of the three here. You walk towards it, and the pain starts again. Just as before the pain stops when you grab the doorknob. 

The thought pops up in your head, ' _It's your bathroom.'_ You open the door, and you find a luxury bathroom. There are a separate shower and tub. The tub has jets, from what you can see. You walk in, and you're met with the smell of your favorite incense. The room was spotless and foreign to the one you remember. You want to question your environment, but your bladder reminds you of an urgent matter.

Once the bidet finished its water show, you begin to wash your hands. You feel the pressure in your temple build again. Looking up at your reflection, you’re met with the same LED as before. This time it started off as blue before changing to orange. Then as soon as you blink, the pressure and the LED are gone. 

“Welp that’s it, I’ve gone batshit crazy.” You laugh, “Hey *insert favorite insane character here* hit me up, baby. I’m ready to fuck shit up!” You wash your face and fix your appearance. Moving back towards your room, you jump into bed and stare at the ceiling.

I've always had a walk-in closet, right? And that bathroom." You grab your pillow and bring it towards your chest. You hug it and try to rationalize your environment. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. You have to do a double-take when you smell something foreign. You blindly sniff and notice that the smell is coming from your pillow.

It doesn't smell like you or your usual detergent. Instead, it smelled like women's perfume. It unfamiliar but strangely inviting. You take another quick sniff and smile. 'Why does this smell so good?' You reach for your phone to check the time. 

When you finally get it, the lock screen seems to glitch. But you don’t have time to investigate.

***bang, bang, bang***

Someone is knocking on your door. The sound is loud, and you jump. “Who the heck can that be? I don’t have any friends.” You leave your phone and get somewhat decent enough to answer the door. When you open the bedroom door, you’re hit with a sense of another unfamiliarity. 

This feels stronger than you felt from your room. ' _Your room has always been that way ..._ Yeah, my room has always been like that, the rest of my home was not the same.' You were currently looking at a new hallway. You peek your head out your door and scan your new environment. Besides your own door, you see two more. On the opposite end of the hall, you see the beginning of a staircase. 

“What. The. Fuck.” You step back into your room and close the door. You wait a moment before opening the door again.

“Nope.” You do it again.

“Nuh-uh.” One more time.

You start to panic, in your hysterics, you begin to laugh. “What kind of tomfoolery is this?” You aren’t allowed to repeat your actions when your visitors start to knock again.

***bang, bang, BANG***

You leave the door open and walk towards your window. You hope that you can catch a glimpse of your guests but unfortunately, you find a snowy backyard. “Well, la di da, looks like I’m a homeowner now.” This is not the apartment you had fallen asleep in. You bang your head on the window frame and consider your options. 

You could hide up here until your intruders leave or you can go greet them. You sigh and slowly make your way toward your new hallway. You stop in the doorway and take a deep breath. Your anxiety was building, and you can feel your heart heavily beating. 

“Okay, I have to leave my room at some point. Better now than never.” You move into the hall and feel the temperature drop. The house was cold and uninviting. You felt like the intruder in this house. Your stomach drops, and you want nothing more than to jump into your bed and hide under the covers. You freeze and you can feel the anxiety build. 

Taking a deep breath, you walk forward and head toward the staircase. At the bottom, you see a kitchen on your left, the front door on your right, and a living room right in front of you. 

***bang, BANG, BANG***

You jump, and you can feel your heart pounding in your chest. You look through the peephole and you find two familiar faces. On the other side of the door stood Connor and Hank. The burning on your temple starts to burn when you see them. You ignore the pain and reach for the doorknob when the knocking continued.

***BANG, BANG, BANG***

You jump and a small shriek escapes your lips. Your heart is pounding, and you try to calm yourself but it’s not working. 

“DPD, open up!” Hank's voice reaches your ears. The shock does little to help your deteriorating state. Your sight starts the narrow and you feel like you're going to faint. The burning gets stronger and you feel close to passing out. In your increasing panic, you don’t hear the mumbling on the other side of the door.

You fall to your knees. The pain is excruciating. Tears start to run steam down your cheeks. A hand gently touches your shoulder, and the pain disappears. A sob escapes your lips, but choke back the rest of your tears. There is a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back and you hear words of comfort. 

“Breath, you’re okay. We got you. You’re safe, I got you. Take a deep breath with me.” Connor continues to rub your back and helps you control your breathing. Your fists unclench and you feel some tension escape your body. Fatigue washes over you and the tears keep rolling down your cheeks. You close your eyes and try to follow Connor’s instructions.

Connor stops his instructions and starts to speak with Hank, “Lieutenant, they are having an increased heartbeat and shortness of breath. Along with shaking and sweating, I believe they were having an anxiety or panic attack.”

Hank sighs, “I can see that Connor. I’ll be right back.” You hear the footsteps distance themselves and open your eyes. Connor kneels beside you. He looks worried and offers you a small smile. You let out a shaky breath and pull him into a hug. 

Here before you, sat one of your comfort characters. ‘He’s here. He’s real.’ You hold onto him tightly and a soft sob leaves your lips when he wraps his arms around you. You close your eyes and begin to pull away. When your face to face with him, you open your eyes again. You stare at him in shock. He looked so real, nothing like the character art you saw last night. Your hand moved to cup his cheek, but you saw Hank walking back and you stopped your motion. 

He was coming from the direction of your kitchen with a glass of water. “Here you go kid, drink up.” He handed you the glass. It was shaking in your hands, but you gladly took a sip. After drinking more than half, Connor took the glass from your hands and handed it back to Hank. 

Connor looks at you and begins to stand. He helps you stand with him. Your legs are weak, and you rely on Connor to guide you to the living room. Once you’re sitting on the couch, he leaves and makes his way toward the kitchen. Hank sits on the other sofa and watches you. Your breath is still shaky, and Hank tries to speak to you. He can’t seem to find the right words to say so he gives up and just stares at his hands.

Connor returns to the living room empty-handed and sits beside Hank. “Your breathing and heart rate have gone down. You seem to be shaking slightly but you have improved. Are experiencing any dry mouth, numbness, headache, or dizziness?”

You’re a bit overwhelmed and shake your head. After the pain from your temple disappeared you felt better. These were just lingering symptoms from whatever that was.

In the kitchen, you can hear the whistle of a kettle. It causes you to jump a bit. 

“No worries, I am only making you a tea.” Connor moves back toward the kitchen. Hank turns to you. He seems tense but starts his questioning. 

“We came here to ask about a case, but you don’t seem too good kid. What do you say I leave my card and you can call us later today?” Hank starts to shuffle through his wallet and pulls out a card and places it on the coffee table. 

You think about calling later but you didn’t want to be left alone in this strange place. “No. I. I think it might be better if you ask now. I’m feeling better.” Hank raises an eyebrow at your response and gives you a once over. 

“Don’t push yourself too hard. It’s okay, we can come back later.” Hank begins to stand but you stop him.

“No! I mean, no. I’m fine. Really. Please just ask your questions.” He’s a bit surprised by your outburst but he sits down anyway. 

“Okay, fine.” He leans forward and places his hands on his knees. “You are Ms./Mr. L/n, right.” You don’t know how he knows your name, but you nod.

“Please call me, Y/n.” He continues.

“Okay, Y/n. I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson from DPD. At 2 a.m. this morning there was a murder. Our suspect was AP400 named Luis. We want to know any information you may have about him.” Hank watches your movements and waits for your response.

“I’m sorry but I have never met nor heard about Luis until now.” Hank scratches his chin and hums.

“Well, we seem to believe that he knows you. Inside his home, we found rA9, and your name is written all over the walls. Are you sure you haven’t noticed anything strange? We aren’t suspecting you. We just want to make sure you and the public are safe. He, unfortunately, has had many victims.” He sits back on the couch.

You take a shaky breath, “No. I’m sorry I can’t be more help. I don’t know anything.”

“That fine, maybe you might know some of the victims. Please stop by the department, we can review names and pictures together. Hopefully, you’ll have some information about them.” Hank sighs and stands up. “Well, you have my card. Please call if you find anything. If you feel unsafe or need anything, call DPD. I’m sure they’ll gladly send a patrol over.” 

Hank offers you his hand. You shake his hand and follow him toward the door. Then you both remember about Connor. In the kitchen, Connor is standing against the wall. His eyes are moving rapidly but he doesn’t move. ‘Is this his analysis thing? What is he looking for?’

You and Hank watch him. Connor snaps out of it and looks at you suspiciously. His LED is glowing yellow. “Ms./Mr. L/n, do you have an android?”

You respond quickly, “No.” You don’t give any more details in fear that he might catch you in a lie. 

“I see. Lieutenant may I speak to you for a second.” Hank doesn’t get to respond before Connor pulls him aside. You stand there and try to figure out what’s going on. 

Wanting to look calm and natural you move toward the kettle to pour a glass. The burning on your temple starts again and you urgently look for the mugs and tea. You hope that when you find them the pain will disappear. In your frantic state, you miss the opportunity to listen in on the conversation between the two men. 

You find the items quickly and serve yourself a nice warm cup of your favorite tea. They return and Connor looks apprehensive.

“Thank you for your cooperation Y/n. Please contact the DPD when you’re ready.” Hank nods toward you and walks away. Connor follows silently. You walk with them toward the door and watch them hop into their car. Once they had driven away you close the door. You lean against it and slide onto the ground.

“What the absolute fuck am I going to do? I’m stuck in a fucking video game.” You set your mug beside you on the ground then rest your face in your palms. ‘Is there something I need to do? How can I get home? Will I ever go back?’ A few minutes pass while you are spiraling. You want to cry but you hold back the tears. 

‘I can’t panic. I can’t just give up. I mean, I’m living the dream! Most fans would love to be in my position. I can simp for my husbandos and waifus in person! And hopefully, bump nasties. I can do this. I can live a good life here and who knows maybe I’ll get the chance to go home. Yeah! Maybe there’s something I have to do.’

With your newfound determination, you stand up and pick up your mug. You ditch the mug on the coffee table in the living room and then grab the card. You run upstairs to get ready and head to the DPD. When you grab your phone, you’re met with a text.

Elijah Kamski: Call me

‘The hell?’ You open your phone but the screen is empty. All your apps, pictures, customizations were gone. It’s as if your phone had been factory reset. Only your lock screen looked the same. You check your contacts and see Kamski’s number and nothing else.

In your messages, you see the text from last night and Kamski’s text but nothing else. After starring at the screen for a few seconds, you decide to call him.


End file.
